Lessons from Blacksburg
By Armin Rosen
PUBLISHED APRIL 19, 2007
It unfolded like a terrifying set-piece, and each new item of information seemed more trite and intuitive than the next: the killer had been a student. He had been a social outcast, homicidally contemptuous of the society that he felt had cast him out. The guns used had been purchased legally. And there had been warning signs that now seem to have stopped tantalizingly short of portending the coming carnage. "When this is all said and done," the online magazine Slate cited one blogger as writing a few hours after the shooting, "we will likely have an unhappy young person who probably had an unhealthy obsession with guns, violence, gory video games, and over the top blood-fest movies"-which means that, even in its horrifying randomness, the Virginia Tech shooting takes on a grim aspect of predictability.
But what should this predictability teach us? Since noted poet and Virginia Tech English professor Lucinda Roy found Cho Seung-Hui unstable enough to justify contacting campus counseling services over 18 months prior to the attack, it could be argued that universities and society in general should be more aggressive in administering psychological help to those who obviously need it. We Americans are great believers in therapy: with nearly one in four adults seeking professional help and Adderall alone bringing in over a quarter-billion dollars in annual revenue, we, arguably, have put more faith in the redemptive powers of the clinical or prescriptive than any other society on earth. But it would be a mistake to let this past week's events reinforce this notion that normalcy can be clinically prescribed, or, as some have recommended, clinically imposed. As author Deepak Chopra appropriately noted in an interview with CNN, psychologist Abraham Maslow maintains that love and belonging are as fundamental to human existence as food and shelter. And the professional concern of a therapist for her patient can't fill basic emotional or social voids any better than social relationships alone can cure mental illness.
Does this teach us that our society predisposes people to committing horrific killing sprees? I, for one, appreciate a certain irony in the fact that this event has ultimately strengthened the very community from which Cho felt so excluded. However, it is patently insensitive to blame the Virginia Tech community for excluding someone who was so invisible to it. And, by all accounts, Cho was not just invisible to those around him, but invisible to himself as well: by shaving off his weapons' serial numbers, carrying no identification, and committing suicide in a way that would obscure his most individual physical feature-his face-he argued against his own humanity and individuality. So if we are to blame the community as a whole for its exclusivity, then it would be disingenuous because we too fail to reach out to those in potential danger of lapsing into a permanent state of social and personal non-existence.
But is the existence of such people alone enough to teach us that our society is somehow structured to produce killing sprees like the one at Virginia Tech? In his seminal work, Suicide (1897), sociologist Emile Durkheim poses a similar question, and proceeds to argue that the social and historical consistency of the suicide rate proves the act to be an unalterable "social fact," built into the social structure. It's terrifying to think of the destructive confluence of mental instability, exclusion and a propensity for violence as one such "social fact." But reactions to the massacre suggest that that's exactly how a lot of people feel: for instance, New York Times columnist Bob Herbert blamed a "staggering amount of murders" on "feelings of inadequacy, psychosexual turmoil and the easy availability of guns." According to Herbert, the only item over which we, as a society, have conscious control is the last.
Yet, if we learn one thing from the Virginia Tech massacre, it should be the importance of using what sliver of control we do have. We can encourage people like Cho to seek the help they desperately need without expecting that help to be a cure-all. We can reach out to the socially alienated, and make an effort to acknowledge those people who we would usually ignore. We can also limit the availability of handguns. Most importantly, we can insist that this past Monday's event were not structural, and avoid lapsing into the kind of cynicism that might have made such an event possible in the first place.
Scores of Facebook groups have a name derived from the phrase "Today, we are all Hokies." The phrase was meant as a show of solidarity with a university suffering in ways none of us can imagine. But as long as we keep internalizing, tolerating, or even ignoring the factors that led to Monday's attack it, also functions as a cynical truth: we are all vulnerable. And in that respect, we are all Hokies.
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Photo By: Shana Rubin
Original Source: Columbia Spectator
<a href="http://www.columbiaspectator.com/node/24952">http://www.columbiaspectator.com/node/24952</a>
Armin Rosen (Author)/Shana Rubin (Photo)
2008-02-18
Kacey Beddoes
Tom Faure (tomfaure@gmail.com)
eng
Enlightened
My youngest son, Travis Miller graduated from Virginia Tech in 2006, and my experiences goe back gto my early teens. As a woman, a Mom, and a researcher, the events of April 16, 2007, grabbed my full attention, and still do.
You see, since 1993, I have been treated for a condition, called Bipolar/Manic Depression. My losses have been many, and severe, as in those 14 years, due to the disease, I had no judgment, no sense of reality. I have all my charts, and I now know I was very over medicated by my EX Dr of some 12 years. Life altering changes occured, for myself, and my 3 sons [who were not educated, nor had therapy] which resulted in Dad walking away, after 5 years. Treating mental illness, as something one chooses, or can "snap out of" is extreamly uneducated.
The past 3 years, I have dedicated myself to research, and to understanding the past, as to understand the present, and hopefuly simplifly the future. Including my sons somewhat in the exploration, led to estrangement, and Family Protective Orders. I was not included in my son's graduation of 2006. Isolation, since 1993, continues from my family, but I now have a better understanding, throught my faith, Buddhism. I accept my part, and thankfully, injoy a full remission, which requires no prescriptive medication at present. But there is still fall out, and I am fighting the good fight, to bring awareness to Virginia, the Nation on the subject of Mental Health.
Trying to understand April 16, 2007, I did know perhaps better that most, how Cho might have acted out his terror, his emense anger, at his perceived rejection, his isolation. I think he fell through the many "cracks" as it were, and that as a state with a D- rating by Nami, [mental health ass.] we have the chance for change. I wrote a Letter to the Roanoke times, on a bill before Congress, up in September for vote, on teaching K-12, good mental health. Yes, we need the tools, we need the education, to demistify, what is baseicaly a "chemical imbalnce", widely unreported, and over or undermedicated, and yes, ignored by too many.
It is up to each of us to know, and to be aware of the very real symtoms, of mental illness.
And I personaly want to do all I can to help, as I council freely in my hometown, happily 2 friends have also seen the "root' of their depression, and no longer take prescription medication, and are doing great. It is a process, and that is called life.
Dona Wheeler
2007-08-19
Dona Wheeler
eng